Friday, January 13, 2006
12:12 PM
I'm usually a fearless person. Being good Christian, I know that my God is omnipotent and always in control. No harm will come to me, whom He loves and protect, and I will not be taken before my time. That is why nothing can ever make me tremble in mortal fear!
Except bad taxi drivers, especially when I'm in the passenger seat.
Just last Monday, I unwittingly hopped onto a taxi that was suffering from epilepsy. The cabby was a fidgeting old man who looked like he was way past his age of retirement. I told him I wanted to go to camp, and tried to explain to him my preferred route of travel.
I had wanted to go by Bukit Merah to Farrer Road then up PIE via Adam Road to camp. I didn't think he got what I said, because at a crucial juncture near the start, he was nevertheless still going to turn towards CTE. So I promptly stopped him from turning, and explained to him again my preferred route, as he jerkily slowed the taxi down in the middle of two lanes.
I managed to get him to get onto the route I wanted, but by now, the taxi was coughing. He kept pressing and releasing the accelerator in quick succession, so I was being thrown forwards and backwards repeatedly in my seat.
On top of that, his hands were fiddling with the windscreen wiper controls, as it was drizzling. He kept turning it on and off everytime the windscreen got a little blur, and sometimes he couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to turn it on or off after his hand had left the steering wheel. So this resulted in the taxi swerving right and left as his right hand was not very stable.
I thought, perhaps, this was because he was rather confused about the route, and was still trying to figure it out. He did eventually figured it out at around Farrer Road, but throughout the whole journey, there he, still, driving like the taxi was suffering from tuberculosis. And drunk. He was not able to steady the speed of the taxi, nor keep within the lane markings for a few seconds, before the taxi abruptly slowed down or swerved. I kept looking frenziedly at the mirror and blindspots for him.
I believe his muscles must be getting weak already, and I could FEEL it by the way the taxi was running. He was driving dangerously close to the kerb every few seconds or so, and on the verge of knocking into the vehicle in front everytime there was a vehicle in sight in front. I tell you, I was biting my teeth and sitting as tightly as I could, in mortal fear evertime there was a sharp turn or bend, or there were some cars coming close.
And then there was that time, I hopped onto a taxi that was about to change shifts. Never flag a taxi that says it's going to change shifts, because the driver is probably very tired, and that means he probably needs sleep.
Alas, enlightenment came too late. We were already halfway to camp, and he was dozing off in the taxi. I kept glancing repeatedly at him nervously, intially believing (wistfully) that perhaps if he was aware that I was nervously looking at him, he would try to stay awake. I'm not Cyclops, and laser doesn't come out of my naked eyes, so he started nodding, and gradually veered right.
I tried to engage in some small chat with him to wake him up. That worked for a moment or two, as he suddenly jolted awake, and tried to reply me. However, after a few exchanges, he began to give monosyllabic replies. Then he started replying with grunts. Then he started replying with deep snoring.
I panicked.
...
Miraculously, I made it back to camp in one piece on both occasions.
...
I guess it's always fun to laugh at my own anxieties after everything has passed, and it turns out alright. For me, that is. Because, if you think about it, it's not alright if you were so old and weak to the bones; past your retirement age but still have to drive a taxi to get by. It's also not very funny if you had to work 20 hours a day just to get by, such that you're really compromising your own health and safety everyday due to fatigue.
Sometimes, I wish I could do something about all this. Yet, I know that there's really nothing I can effectively or practically do. Perhaps I could help that one old man for a day, or maybe even a year, but I don't suppose I could help every single poor old man in the world for the rest of their lives. Can I?
What then, can I do?
Comments:
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4 comment)
Haha! Why Tuberculosis? Am puzzled... Such an interesting analogy... Anyway- be thankful that you're safe and sound. Next time- ask driver to stop lah... So dangerous...
Dearest Zichun...
I drop by everday only to have the same old post stare at me...
Please start UPDATING blog...
A very depressed Lion, J.L
I drop by everday only to have the same old post stare at me...
Please start UPDATING blog...
A very depressed Lion, J.L
# posted by 
: 12:20 AM
: 12:20 AM
It's easy to be fearless when you have nothing to fear. :)
Study economics! Help entire swathes of society for years, decades, generations!
Study economics! Help entire swathes of society for years, decades, generations!
Good. It was appearing as if you were callous and self-concerned but your considerate nature deserves congratulations. Yeah, I was along the same lines of thought when you were describing the poor fellows. But that describes the old and the weary, what of the youth? Eating at a McDonald's one day I noticed a boy who was even younger than I was cleaning the floor. The shop owner came by and paid his salary for the day and I was shocked to see that my meal was four times more in price. This world is a sorry world indeed but there's still hope while people who notice exist.
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# posted by : 7:34 PM
: 7:34 PM